


tree house stories

by blueaurora



Series: 99z medley [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 99 line as college roommates, 99 line fic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Slice of Life, is this an excuse to write about the 99 line loving each other? yes, lots of fluff, mingi and woo are dancers, san a biologist, the most slice of life fic ever, this is totally yunsangiwoosang or whatever name they have, yeosang is an artist, yunho is a creative writer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22692904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaurora/pseuds/blueaurora
Summary: [part one]  tree housesometimes, falling in love can be as innocent as climbing into the tallest tree, building a wood house there and spent all summer playing. with no worries, not thinking about the great fall.
Relationships: Choi San/Jeong Yunho, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Jung Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Song Mingi, Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi
Series: 99z medley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640176
Comments: 27
Kudos: 117





	1. paint galaxies on my skin, starboy

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooooo! blai here with something I'm totally writing for myself, so if you're here hoping for some good plot, I'm sorry. This is just fluff to please my 99 line lover heart. Still, I wanted to share it, because why not???  
> Each chapter will be from a different pov and a different ship, but the timeline will be the same, meaning each character will show his own pov of the same thing ???? you'll see it once the second chapter is out.  
> I don't think I will be writing angst here, I just want fluff. And yes it has all ships, and some of them will be in love, some of them will not be reciprocated at first, certain two won't ever notice they're in love, and a long list. Above all, this will just narrate their life as roommates and how they love each other a lot.
> 
> I'll be adding the ships into the tags as they start appearing, and also, part one of the series will be basically couples (not poly yet!)

_**SAN** _

San never stopped to think about how to label his friendship with Yeosang, but after a lot of time thinking under the warm water of his eight in the morning shower, he reaches a conclusion: looking at Yeosang makes his heart race in a way totally different than when he is sharing breakfast with Seonghwa. At first it confuses him, deciding it must be because he also shares an apartment with Yeosang. Even when Seonghwa is his best friend, Yeosang shared the shower with him once and, well, that for sure makes a relationship bloom stronger. But it’s not until Yeosang crawls into his bed late and night and dead falls on top of his chest when he realizes that maybe,  _ just maybe _ , the way he automatically wraps his arms around his body and makes room for him to sleep is trying to tell him something. Something he doesn’t actually catches.

It’s late at night when it occurs for the first time.

Sharing an apartment with four dudes it’s not something San would call  _ lovely _ — even when they have Yunho cleaning and cooking for them like a mother, carrying what Wooyoung likes to call the  _ tree house leader  _ role. With Wooyoung throwing his clothes around every time he comes home from practice, Mingi forgetting to do their laundry and Yeosang leaving brushes and paint-water glasses everywhere — Wooyoung once drank from one —, things are complicated. Not to talk about the five of them sharing a single bathroom and the amount of socks Wooyoung likes to steal from his drawer without asking for them.

But that’s something he can live with, because he has also his things — like running away every time it’s chores day and then coming home with puppy eyes just so Yunho doesn’t get mad.

What’s difficult is that sometimes, deciding where the line between what they can do and what they  _ shouldn’t ever think about doing  _ is very hard.

For example, snuggling together on the couch while watching a movie. Totally cool. He loves to do that with Mingi.

Opening the door of his room at four in the morning and getting on his bed without asking — keypoint:  _ without _ , because Wooyoung loves sleeping there, but he always tells him before actually doing it —, hmmm, not that cool. 

San blinks, startled at first, believing it’s Mingi again trying to prank him — even when they all told him that pranks on a shared apartment aren’t common, neither nice. But it’s just Yeosang, cold fingers meeting San’s nape as he quickly gets inside the covers and hugs him — and San’s body follows a little. Automatically. Also, weirdly, because Yeosang is not that clingy and San believes is the first time in that year they hug.

“What?” He wonders in a whisper, not moving at all, one hand over Yeosang’s hair. A little excited the scary cat got close to him, a little scared of  _ scaring _ him away.

The boy remains silent for a second, then sighs and moves aside, hiding his face on the pillow. San is thankful his bed is big enough for the two of them to fit in, even when their legs are brushing and one of Yeosang’s hands is still hanging from one of his shoulders. He smells like paint, but San is used to that.

“I’m blocked,” Yeosang mumbles. “Nothing is coming out nice. I’ve been all day inside my room, I needed some rest.”

San takes a deep breath, fully awake by now. Yet, he doesn’t move, listening to the loudness of his own heart. He has to admit it makes him a little happy that Yeosang chose him to go in the middle of a block, because Yeosang is the most quiet of them all. He is always on his room, painting or whatever, because that’s a private place none of them have ever entered. Yeosang barely spends time watching movies with them, he is always working. 

He is happy he likes San a little more — he will for sure use it against Wooyoung, who claims he is the most loved.

“So you came here?” He asks in a small voice, gulping. A little nervous.

“Your bed is comfy,” Yeosang mumbles, moving closer until his face is digging into the crook of his neck and San is internally screaming. Without a reason, because they’re friends. There shouldn’t be a reason for them to not sleep together, right? Wooyoung has slept there plenty of times, when they stay until late playing games or just chatting, saying he is too tired to go back to his own room even when it’d take him nothing but half a minute.

But Yeosang, it’s weird for him to initiate it.

And is weird for him to just doing it in the middle of the night, fiercely believing San would accept it without problems — and he does, because Yeosang is his favorite, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that.

Maybe he drank from the wrong glass of water and he is feeling dizzy.

Maybe San is just having a very nice lucid dream.

“You always make me feel better, San,” he says again, making San’s heart go from fast to faster and almost rip a hole on his chest. He clears his throat, finally moving and giving Yeosang his back, eyes burning the wall in front ot him. He makes a ball out of his body and closes his fists. Tight. Okay, that’s for sure crossing the line.  _ What does that mean? _

“Hmm.”

“Can I rest here for a while?” 

San doesn’t speak again, nodding and hoping for the movement of the mattress to be enough to answer him. Internally, he wants to be alone, but that would sound shitty so he allows Yeosang to curl himself next to his back, not hugging him, but pressing his forehead into one of his shoulder blades, directly breathing into his neck so that way San can feel how it gets slower as he falls asleep incredibly fast. He can’t go back to sleep even when he has an important class in the morning, slowly tying up some threads. 

His heart shouldn’t react that way for a simple friend.

Or that friend shouldn’t get in his bed without making an appointment three weeks earlier so he has time to prepare his heart.

—

Yeosang is not next to him when he wakes up, but before thinking it was a dream, he sees the yellow stain that he left on his pillow. Because Yeosang is always covered in paint, it doesn’t matter how many showers he takes a day, if you thread your fingers into his golden hair, you will end up covered in a lot of colors. Wooyoung says Yeosang is just clumsy, but Mingi believes he likes to paint his own skin to taste the colors — San does believe that too.

When San met Yeosang, he had his cheeks already covered in paint. He likes that about Yeosang a lot, it makes him unique. He doesn’t like to rush into the kitchen because he spent half night thinking about the boy curled next to him and didn’t hear the alarm in the morning, though. Yunho is already there, making himself a coffee when San jumps in and throws the stained pillowcase into the washing machine, almost tripping and crashing into Mingi’s ridiculous pile of tangerines.

“Good morning, coffee?” Yunho offers, but San shakes his head, toothbrush hanging from his mouth to save time. “What happened to your pillow? To you, actually.”

San brushes his teeth on the spot, in a hurry, jumping a little before spitting on the kitchen sink, wiping the rest of toothpaste with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Yeosang visited me in the middle of the night. It was dark so I didn’t cheek if he was covered in paint before letting him sleep with me. Hilarious, right?” he says like it’s normal for Yeosang to do that type of things — hint: is not.

Yunho, still, shoots him a soft smile, slowly stirring the coffee. “Yeosang is always covered in paint.”

That’s also right.

But out of the four of them, San is the one that cares the less about Yeosang’s sticky fingers. Mingi hates the smell of paint so he is always spraying Yeosang with cologne every time they hang out together — a one in a million opportunity to spend some quality time the five of them together — yet San finds the smell of paint really pleasant. It reminds him to home, for some reason, even when the only memory he has of painting is that time he painted some sunflowers for his mom during kindergarten. If he thinks about it closely, it’s almost like admitting he loves Yeosang’s smell. But will he say it outloud? Not with that choice of words, obviously.

Roommates are just that, roommates.

Hearts are weird and San sometimes get a little lonely, especially at ass in the morning when he is having some dreams about holding hands and a boy strongly smelling like paint decides to hug him and tell him that,  _ hey, you make me feel better when I’m about to punch the wall and hi five Wooyoung. _ San will get over it in like a week, when Wooyoung decides to plan another sleepover on his room and they cuddle to sleep.

He picks his keys and runs back to his room, almost walking out of the apartment without his shoes on. As he jumps again, ready to go, he finds Yeosang exiting his room. Hair a mess, wearing nothing more than an oversized white t-shirt — he is sure its Mingi’s — and rubbing his eyes with a hand that sparks in purple, blue and yellow. San sighs, heart doing its thing again.

Okay.

Putting things over the table: Yeosang is cute. Especially when he looks like he is begging for hugs, and San loves hugs. But everyone knows that, is nothing new. Yeosang is cute, so what? That doesn’t make him more boyfriendish, right? San is also very cute and he’s been single for all his life. So what? Can his heart stop being this stupidly dumb?

“Hey,” Yeosang says, then he yawns. “I dreamt with you.”

_ What the hell, Yeosang. _

“Is that so?”

Yeosang nods, hair bouncing. “I think I fell asleep finishing this assignment. It was a nice dream.”

San presses his lips together, teeth quickly finding his lower lip. So Yeosang doesn’t remember about crawling into his bed. That’s a nice thing, he thinks. Much better than him remembering how halfway he decided to move and press his cold nose into San’s neck and never doing it again — San liked it, way too much if he has to put it into words.

“What was it about?” San forgets he has a really important class in like ten minutes, stopping on the corridor like he has all the time of the world, getting curious about some dream that maybe didn’t exist because, huh, it happened for real. “The dream.”

Yeosang stops to think for a second. “Sleeping. Oh, man. I’m so tired I even dream about sleeping. When will this assignment end? Will it end me first?” He wonders, whining a little.

To that, San giggles and waves at him, finally deciding to run to his class and stop looking at how Mingi’s shirt is big enough to show his collarbones in a tempting way. So tempting for a friend.

—

**99z SQUAD LET’S GETTTTTTIT**

**mingi:** who was in charge of sorting laundry this week

**mingi:** i hate u

**yunho:** wooyoung

**san:** wooyoung

**yeosang:** wooyoung

**mingi:** i hate you SO MUCH

**wooyoung:** IT WASNT ME

**wooyoung:** I DID IT LAST WEEK IT WAS YEOSANGS TURN

**yeosang:** you exchanged it for my last brownie

**wooyoung:** oh fuck

**yunho:** wooyoung stop exchanging chores for food

**wooyoung:** well I cant help it yeosangs mom brownies are delicious

**mingi:** well

**mingi:** because of you YEOSANG DESTROYED MY FAVE SHIRT

**yeosang:** he’s exaggerating

**mingi:** IT’S SMELLY AND LOOKING LIKE A RAINBOW

**san:** like you lmao

**mingi:** IDIOT

**yunho:** yeosang

**yunho:** how could you not notice it

**yunho:** mingi’s three sizes bigger

**yeosang:** bold of you to think I look at what I put to paint

**mingi:** wooyoung youre buying me another shirt

**wooyoung:** fuck YOU

**wooyoung:** you have like twenty shirts that are the same

**yunho:** wooyoung, you’re in charge of sorting again

**wooyoung:** suck my dick

**wooyoung:** all of you

**wooyoung:** not you san, I know u will love it

**san:** I like my meals bigger

**wooyoung:** IM GONNA MURDER YOU

—

Arriving home, San finds himself wrestling Wooyoung because he had been waiting behind the door like a kid for him. They’re both the same strength, San can even say he is stronger, but today he is just way too exhausted to deal with his annoying ass, so he lets him win — and maybe he shouldn’t because, once again, Wooyoung is fucking annoying.

“I dare you to say my dick is small again,” Wooyoung snorts, sitting on top of him, arms crossed and not moving until San actually apologises for it. “C’mon!”

“That sounds weird,” Yunho laughs from the couch, “get a room.”

Luckily, that’s enough for Wooyoung to get distracted, San using its chance to flip him over and ran away to his room and faceplant into the mattress after what he can say was the longest day of his life. Not only he arrived late because of his Yeosang incident in the morning, he also forgot he had practice in the afternoon and didn’t prepare food beforehand neither brought enough money to buy more than a shitty sandwich, ending it all with him tripping and scratching one of his knees on the way back home. His body feels drained of all energy he had left remained, and the only thing he’s thinking about is taking a shower, having dinner while watching TV and then sleeping for years. Luckily for him, Saturday awaits for him with its arms open. He plans on doing nothing but laying on bed and occasionally crawling to the kitchen for snacks. And maybe not thinking about Yeosang.

The knock on his door brings him back into reality — where he does think about Yeosang —, not even thinking it could be Wooyoung because he’s not polite enough to knock — he’s the type to jump on top of him and dig his head on his sternon. San turns on his heels, finding Yeosang there. The boy gives him some sad eyes that make San’s heart flutter a little.

“Hey, what happens?”

Yeosang doubts a little before stepping inside the room and closing the door at his back. He has changed into more comfortable — and his own — clothes. It’s nothing more but sweatpants and an old gray hoodie he’s always wearing around when he is frustrated. That worries San, who gathers all the strength he has left to stand up and walk towards him, awkwardly standing in front of him, not knowing what to do with his hands. 

“Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t a dream?”

San panics a little, stepping backwards.

“Hmm?”

“Yunho scolded at me,” Yeosang pouts, crossing his arms. San catches how his fingers still have little stains of paint. “Mostly because Mingi wanted to sue me for using his shirt, but also because apparently I stained your pillowcase too. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no,” San quickly moves the same step forward, putting both hands over Yeosang’s shoulders. He gives him a little smile. “Don’t worry about that. I had to do my laundry eventually, Wooyoung slept here last week and I think he ate your brownie at like five in the morning.”

That makes Yeosang laugh a little, edges of his mouth pointing up.

“That’s nasty.”

“Wooyoung’s nasty,” San says loud enough for the boy to hear, opening the door just a second after to fight San once again. 

Three minutes later, Wooyoung bending his arm behind his back, San finally surrenders and kicks him out of the room. Wooyoung sticks his tongue at him, kissing Yeosang’s cheek as he exists. San rolls his eyes. “He’s like a kid.”

Yeosang laughs a little, slowly moving his feet over the tiles, drawing something only he can see. He’s still standing by the doorframe, so after another solid minute thinking about it, San finally reaches his arms out and asks him to come. Too tired for standing up again. Yeosang, as always, doubts a little. And maybe he only drags his bare feet — he is wearing bee socks — towards the bed and places his body in between San’s arms because he feels guilty. 

It’s been a year since they met, enough time for San to know who’s the clingiest of them all — Wooyoung, without doubt — and who dislikes contact the most — that’s Yeosang. Maybe for that San always craved it. Hugging him, sharing a moment. Whatever. Having Yeosang on his arms, his paint scent filling his nostrils, that makes him happy. Strangely happy. Rubbing Yeosang’s back, holding him close with the other arm, he goes through a silent panic attack because his heart is racing again and he is totally sure Yeosang can feel it against his own chest.

The boy doesn’t say it though, cheek pressed onto his shoulder, arms hanging from there too.

“You can sleep in my bed whenever you want,” San mumbles after a while, voice trembling a little, crying internally when Yeosang shakes his negative against his neck. “For real. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“It’s okay,” Yeosang moves, standing on his heels. “I don’t want to shower every time I go to sleep. But thanks for always being so nice.”

It hurts to admit it, San’s chest setting on fire as he holds on the  _ I don’t care about the paint  _ he’s too scared to say out loud. He smiles, defeated, and waves Yeosang as he goes into his room and closes the door. It doesn’t take Wooyoung a lot to come back and wrestle him again, always full of energy, until San is screaming for help.

Only Yunho responds to that.

—

San has some issues, and it’s not the same ones as when he found out the reason he didn’t like Han Hyerin’s ponytail — when everyone was drooling about it — was because he liked his brother’s — Hyerin’s — shaved nape more instead. Finding out he was into boys make him panic a little, but everyone in his family was cool about it, so after telling Seonghwa he felt a little relieved and started babbling about how he might’ve been into baseball boys.

Right now it’s different because he might have a tiny, super tiny, extra tiny crush on some guy whose name starts with an Y and has paint all over his face  _ and  _ shares the apartment with him, which is something they all talked about once: thinking your roommate is handsome? Yes. Jerking off thinking about your roommate? Weird, but if you don’t say it outloud, then okay. Falling in love with your roommate? Fucking no, idiot.

It’s been almost two weeks and San still rolls in bed, eyes wide open even when the clock marks two in the morning and he has a lecture at eight, waiting for his door to crack open and the smell of paint fill in everything. But it doesn’t happen, and for some reason, that makes him a little moody.

It wasn’t like that before, for that, is totally a problem.

“Is not even spring yet,” he groans, Seonghwa stopping typing to raise a brow at him, asking for more information about that weird statement. “You know, my mom always says people falls in love more easily during spring. Something about blooming feelings. Do you think that I might be actually in love? Is that even possible? We showered together once and nothing happened!”

Seonghwa goes back to his assignment, sighing a little. “I don’t know, San. Your brain works in a weird way.”

“Thanks, best friend. That’s another thing,” he gasps, gesturing in the air. “When I look at you, I’m mostly like  _ meh _ , but lately looking at Yeosang makes my legs feel like jelly and my heart race and I just want to kiss him. Do you get me?”

Seonghwa frows, not even looking up from the screen of his laptop, so San can’t be sure if it’s because of him or whatever he has to finish before 12 A.M.

“That sounds pretty in love for me,” he mumbles, typing fast. “But it can also be the effect of him sleeping with you. We humans always seek for contact, maybe is just that.”

San has to frown at that, because he doesn’t want to kiss Wooyoung.

“And how can I know which one is? Because I’m going crazy, I live with him, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa shrugs, finally giving up and meeting the chair’s back. He covers his face with both hands before speaking. “Kiss him? Try to see if you like him that way or just want hugs. I hope it’s the second, you don’t need to date to hug someone. And dating a roommate would be bothersome. For both of us, actually.”

San raises his arms in the air, ignoring everything he said.. “Hug me, then.”

“Oh, no, I’m a married man,” Seonghwa shakes his head, pointing at his laptop. “I need to focus on him and only him.”

San rolls his eyes, thinking about it for a while before picking his things and heading back home. It’s not like he can concentrate anyway. If he fails his physiology class again, it’s going to be entirely Kang Yeosang’s fault.

Yeosang, who’s not on his room when he, stupidly, stands in front and knocks on his door hoping he will let him in for the first time in forever — actually, it makes San’s skin itch a little, always curious about what does Yeosang hides there. Sometimes, a thing he had been dreaming about way before Yeosang crawled into his bed and hugged him out of nowhere — more known as the time Yeosang made him rethink some things like  _ is this normal or should I marry this man? _ —, he lets his mind wander. Thinking about Yeosang having the bedroom floor covered in unfinished drawings, or a big mural on the ceiling, or the walls filled with different shades of purple because he is too lazy to try them on the canvas and the skin of his forearms is already shining in colors. He wants to know how does he ends up covered in so much paint. Yeosang’s room might be a museum and San is sleeping just two meters away for it, missing it.

“He’s out with Mingi,” Yunho says from the couch, feeding Wooyoung some popcorn as they watch anime. San wrinkles his nose, hands sweating a little at those words. “To buy him another shirt.”

San moves into the living room, patting Wooyoung’s legs so he makes him room on the couch, ending with them on his lap, forehead resting into Yunho’s shoulder. “Weren’t you in charge of that?” He mumbles, pressing a finger into Wooyoung’s forehead. The boy stares, throwing a kiss at him before facing the TV to keep up with the episode, hand patting Yunho’s leg, asking for more popcorn.

“I gave Yeosang extra money for his brushes, he says he’s doing something big and needs like hundred of brushes,” Wooyoung explains. “Today’s anime night, I couldn’t miss it.”

It’s four in the afternoon, but San decides to not fight back and stays with them for a while, not actually understanding their love for anime, getting bored when Wooyoung stands up to go to the bathroom and tells him the night is young. Sometimes, San wonders how does Yunho keeps up with so much Wooyoung-energy.

“Yun, can I ask you something?” He mumbles as Wooyoung pees.

“Of course.”

San frowns a little. “Do you think you can fall in love with a friend? You know, without being weird.”

Yunho rests his head in one of his arms, lazily looking at him, almost like he has not energy at all to reply. It makes San a little nervous, because it’s just then when he realizes what he asked, and that Yunho totally knows that he only has five close friends, and these are Seonghwa — that’s more like a brother than a friend at this point — and them. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Yunho, but he is not sure about what the hell does he feel for Yeosang — a crush, that’s starting to seem like that. But maybe is a friend’s crush. Wanting to hug a friend crush. Or something like that. He doesn’t need to be precisely in love with Yeosang. Or does he?

“What,” Yunho chuckles, hitting his shoulder in an adorable way, “are you in love with me?”

San goes red, hitting him back. “It’s not that!”

“I was joking. Is our Sanie going through his first love issue?”

San crosses his arms, shoving him away. “Is just a question,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Well, I don’t know what to say, but sometimes love can be a little weird. Feelings, actually, are hard to decipher at this age. Just be sure if you feel something for a friend, whatever it is, it won’t break your friendship,” Yunho runs a hand through San’s hair, bringing him close in half a hug. “Most of the time, your feelings won’t be answered the way you want. You need to be cautious,” he mumbles over his hair.

That doesn’t make San feel any better. In any case, he goes to bed with a lot more of things rumbling on his head. Yeosang is a good friend, a friend he doesn’t want to lose. He for sure doesn’t want to lose Yeosang.

—

It’s been almost three days since the last time San saw Yeosang. Yunho tells him he’s been invested in some assignment and sleeping throughout the day, painting at night — because, apparently, Yeosang is something like a little owl and he feels more energized when the moon and the stars start dancing in the black canvas the night sky is — but San can’t help the little worry alarm that starts ringing deep down his chest. He wonders things: Is he eating? Is he getting a good rest? Is he thinking about him too late at night?

Waking up next to Wooyoung doesn’t help him get better, but he still hugs the boy tightly — ignoring his morning complains — and closes his eyes as his nose falls into the skin of his neck. Wooyoung smells a lot different. Like cologne and a little like dry sweat, it makes San want to hug him more. Totally contrary to Yeosang’s soft scent, the one that makes him all warm and nostalgic, falling into calm water and drifting away from reality.

Sleeping with Wooyoung isn’t changing the fact he wants Yeosang to come into his room again.

“San,” Wooyoung complains again, kicking his leg in the air, “stops drooling all over my neck. It’s fucking gross.”

San moves when he notices, wiping the rest of saliva that’s still dripping from his lips, cleaning it from Wooyoung then. The boy has the audacity to roll and push him, still not moving from San’s own bed. Instead of kicking him off and sending him to his own and almost unworn bed, San stands up and walks towards the bathroom, noticing he has time enough to take a long, warm shower before going to lecture to keep thinking about Yeosang.

Oh, Yeosang.

He’s also there.

“Morning,” he grunts as they bump shoulders, flicking his bangs to see who he is. His expression softens as he notices it’s San the one standing like a fool in the middle of the door. “Shower?”

San noods.

“Do you mind if we take it together?” Yeosang asks, already pulling his shirt over his head, paint falling from his neck like a waterfall. It’s not like San wants to look, is that it’s right in front of his eyes. He wonders how did the paint get there. “I want to go to sleep smelling like Mingi’s melon shampoo, not paint. I will end up hating my job if I keep like this.”

San could have told him the truth.  _ Please, Yeosang, take it first, I don’t have class until ten and it’s seven. _ But he decides to lie and nod, closing the door behind his back, turning on his heels when Yeosang starts taking off his pants.

They showered together before. It’s totally cool, he thinks, peeking a little on the mirror and catching Yeosang’s body line.  _ Beautiful. _

He shakes his head, the water softly falling on the other side of the curtain, getting rid of his clothes and trying to keep his gaze up all the time. They’re friends. Friends shower together. Totally normal when they’re five and there’s only one bathroom. Yeosang is standing under the water with his eyes closed, almost like he fell asleep, enjoying the warmth. San stares at him for what it seems an eternity before they’re switching places, Yeosang totally going for Mingi’s shampoo.

“It’s been ages since I took a shower,” he purrs. 

San laughs under his breath, changing the warm water for something a little colder. “I think Wooyoung didn’t shower last night after his practice, and he went straight to my bed.”

“That’s nasty,” Yeosang says, adding with a giggle, “and gay.”

San’s brain stops working for a second, to go full speed right after. He never stopped to think about that, actually, Yeosang never really shared what he liked with them. They did a meeting not much after meeting, when Wooyoung apologised for the future boners he would totally pop from time to time because he was a big bisexual and Yunho was way too sexy. But Yeosang remained silent that time.

It’s not like thinks he’s straight… Or maybe he didn’t think of that until now. 

“San, water,” the boy begs, moving to clean his soapy hair. “Cold! How can you shower with cold water?”

_ If only you knew what I am going through right now. _

He shampoos his hair, not so accidentally using Mingi’s shampoo too, still thinking about it. Now he has to add another thing to his  _ I am in love with Yeosang or it’s just the spring vibe _ list, going directly under the  _ I’m not in love because he used my toothbrush to paint a sunset once  _ ( _ I’m not in love because he might be straight and ugh _ ) — but he also has a lot of  _ I’m in love because _ ’s like the one he’s gonna add after the shower ( _ I’m in love because he has a pretty backbone _ ). That list is not really helping.

Yeosang has to hit him in the arm to get out, and finally, San is left alone with his problems and a lot of cold water.

—

**99z GANG LETS GETTTTTTIT**

**mingi:** who the fuck is using my shampoo

**mingi:** istg buy your own shampoo fuckers

**san:** idk who but i can tell u who didnt

**san:** wooyoung, bc he doesnt shower

**wooyoung:** can someone kick san out 

**wooyoung:** bc if I do it myself ill end up kicking his ass out of the apartment

**san:** youre obsessed with my ass

**yunho:** what did I say about flirting here?

**wooyoung:** WERE NOT FLIRTING

**wooyoung:** who wants a flat ass anyway

**wooyoung:** YUNHO HELP 

**wooyoung:** HES BANGING AT MY DOOR

**yeosang:** shshhshshhshsshshsh

**yeosang:** im trying to sleep

**mingi:** was it u right yeosang

**mingi:** I can smell melon from here

**yeosang:** it was san

**san.** YEOSANG TRAITOR U ALSO USED IT

**mingi:** WHY DON’T YOU BUY YOUR OWN FUCKING THINGS

**yunho:** okay san don’t murder wooyoung we need him to pay rent

**wooyoung:** wow nice!

**yunho:** im on the supermarket mingi ill buy you more shampoo

**yunho:** im gonna buy tons of shampoo so you stop stealing

**wooyoung:** can someone tell me if san is still on my door i need to pee

**san:** use a cup, dickhead

—

San’s door crack open in the middle of the night, and contrary to the past days, he’s dead asleep when it happens. So he doesn’t notices the softly sound of bare feet over the floor, neither the crack of his bed with the added weight. He does notice the smack on his shoulder, though, confusedly blinking and waving his hands in the air. He hits someone before turning on the lights, finding no other but Yeosang there, kneeling on the mattress.

“Oh, shit,” San quickly sits down in the bed, still half asleep, hands over his body. “I thought it was Wooyoung again.”

“Stupid ass,” Yeosang mumbles, and San doesn’t know if he’s talking about Wooyoung or himself.

“What happens?”

Yeosang inflates his chest, putting both his hands down. San notices how he is wearing a hoodie that’s totally his. “Fuck, did Wooyoung forgot to sort again?”

His hands fly to the fabric, Yeosang’s eyes following his fingers before shaping his pink lips in a perfect “o”. His cheek get painted in a soft shade of pink, blonde hair creating shadows on his face that hides it perfectly for San’s eyes to see.

“Oh, I guess. I’ll give it back after washing it.”

“Yeosang,” San sighs, falling into the mattress again, closing his eyes as the light is too bright. He is tired.

“What?”

“Nothing. So, why are you here?”

Silence fills the room with the same elegance the scent of paint does, mixing a little with the melon aroma that’s still hanging from his hair. Usually, Yeosang ties his hair up while painting, but he has it down today — tonight, whatever hour is. San finally went to sleep at a reasonable hour (mostly because he spent the whole afternoon wrestling Wooyoung) just to dream about Han Hyerin’s baseball brother whose name never got. He patiently waits for the boy to speak, but the only thing he gets is the crack of the bed again as Yeosang gets off. He opens his eyes then, looking at him, confused.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “Forget it.”

San groans. “You woke me up for this?”

Yeosang closes the door instead of replying, and even though it takes San just a few seconds to fall asleep again, when he wakes up in the morning he feels bad about it.

—

Apologizing was never one of San’s strengths, and for that he ends up sharing another anime night with Wooyoung and Yunho, Mingi joining them after a while. For a moment, they all wait for Yeosang to show up, but he doesn’t, light of his room on, a little noise coming from time to time. 

“What does Yeosang like?” He asks, thumb fighting Mingi under the blankets. 

“In bed?” Wooyoung asks from his place between Yunho’s legs, eyes not moving from the screen as some dude — San doesn’t know the name — fights some type of monster with a hole where its heart is supposed to be — San doesn’t even know what the hell they’re watching. “Or like, in general?”

“In general, thanks.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “I can’t help you with that.”

Yunho kicks him, turning his face to San then. “What do you mean? Sangie’s birthday is not until June. If you’re buying him something, you better have something ready for my birthday that is,” he adds, looking at Mingi first, kicking Wooyoung again, “in one month.”

“The only thing you’re getting is me, grandpa,” Wooyoung retorts.

“Can I get the purchase ticket? I want to exchange you for a better roommate.”

Wooyoung laughs, hitting him on the leg. “You love me.”

“Gross,” Mingi rolls his eyes next to him, laughing between his teeth as he wins for the tenth time in a row. San wants to believe he’s not focussed enough on the match to not admit his hands are like baby hands in between Mingi’s.

“I think I made him mad the other day,” San keeps on going, mumbling, low enough so he can protect himself if Yeosang is listening at the other side of the door, even though they all know once Yeosang starts painting, he goes into a trance. “I want to buy him something that cheers him a little. He’s been working a lot.”

“Brushes,” the three of them say at the same time, “and if you want him to suck your dick, acrylic paint,” that’s only Wooyoung saying who, obviously, gets shoved off the couch.

San takes a mental note, hissing under his breath as Mingi wins yet another time, not fighting back the hug he gives right after.

_ Brushes.  _

_ And maybe some acrylic paint. _

—

San spends a lot of time trying to decide what color he should buy — because he is a poor college student and after a week smelling like melon (all fucking of them) he needs to save some money to buy shampoo —, finally deciding on buying _ Brilliant Purple  _ after one hour because 1) he loves purple and 2) Yeosang is always wearing some shade of purple, and it really suits him.

It’s been almost a month since Yeosang hugged him without asking. And he never did it again.

Standing in front of his door, San is still unsure about what he feels. Drawn to Yeosang is a way of calling it. But as Seonghwa said, it can also mean that he only lacks the touch. Yeosang’s touch, though. His fingers feel differently, the way he breathes feels different. Sleeping with Yeosang felt nice — not taking in count the almost heart attack he went through.

He knocks softly, because is almost 1 A.M. Still, he is able to hear the sound of feet moving on the other side of the door, Yeosang tripping with something before finally opening the door. His hair is pulled up with a red hair clip, and aside from the paint that’s covering his forehead and the tip of his nose, he is still wearing San’s hoodie, that is getting more and more sparkled in paint. Yeosang squints, not opening the door enough for San to see what’s inside.

“It’s late,” he mumbles.

San shows him the bag with the art supplies, using it as a reply.

“What’s that?” Yeosang asks, eyes widening a little, totally recognizing the shop’s logo imprinted in the bag as that’s the shop he always buys his material from. His eyes flutter from the bag to San, fingers moving in the air.

“I bought you some paint,” San places the bag on his hands. “And some brushes. I don’t know what you’re doing though, but I asked the lady in charge and she said that  _ Yeosangie has been buying a lot of rigger brushes lately _ ,” he smiles when Yeosang gives in and smiles, picking the color and looking at it from close, eyes sparkling for a moment. “I don’t know what a rigger brush is, but I got you four in different sizes. And purple paint, because I love purple.”

“San,” Yeosang sighs, closing his eyes before wrapping his arms around his neck and bringing him close into a hug. San melts, feeling how his body easily gives in, jelly legs appearing again. Yeosang smells so goddamn good. “You’re amazing, but you didn’t have to, idiot.”

“You’ve been working a lot,” he whispers, hugging him tightly, and just then, he decides to open his eyes and peeking a little. Yeosang’s door is left open behind him, and San finally can see it. There’s a canvas in the middle of the room, the bed in the corner, a lot of diary paper on the floor and a ladder. A lot of paint and water glasses. But what amazes him, is that somehow, he got it right, and it the ceiling of Yeosang’s room, there’s a full starry sky. “Wow.”

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang moves, following San’s gaze, voice trembling a little when he speaks again. “You shouldn’t have seen that. It’s not finished.”

_ It’s beautiful. _

“Yunho will kill you if he sees it,” San half jokes, being pulled in by Yeosang cold fingers, door closing behind his back. 

“He doesn’t need to know,” he takes a finger to his lips, eyes pointing at the ceiling then. “What do you think?” He asks, placing his arms on his hips. San follows his gaze, slowly analyzing it. It’s beautiful, and it’s big. And it’s totally something Yeosang would do. “I always loved stargazing, but it’s so difficult to find a starry sky in the city.”

“It’s amazing,” San finally says, lowering his gaze to look at Yeosang. “It’s beautiful.”

The boy looks back, smiling. “Thanks. Would you let me try the brushes and the paint?”

San can’t say no to his excitement, almost like discovering a new faucet of he boy, both of them sitting on his bed. And he likes it. His first time on Yeosang’s room, on Yeosang’s bed, and it feels exactly how he thought it would feel. Warm.

Yeosang takes his hand, finger slowly moving over his forearm, rolling up the sleeve of his hoodie. San allows him to use his fair skin as a canvas, first brush moving smoothly over it, tickling him and making both of them giggle, quickly covering their mouths with a hand so they don’t wake up Wooyoung — that’s sleeping next door. 

Yeosang draws a lot of stars using the brilliant purple, and after he is satisfied with his job, they both lay on their backs and look at the unfinished starry sky that’s above their heads.

“This is what you’ve been working on?”

Yeosang nods.

“I had some assignments too, but I wanted to finish this as soon as possible. I know the landlord will find out someday and I will have to paint over, I wanted to enjoy it for the longest time.”

“Let’s keep it as a secret,” San mumbles, moving his head over the mattress, finding Yeosang’s tired eyes. “Our secret.”

He gulps, waiting for an answer. Yeosang smiles a little, resting his head over San’s shoulder, so when he speaks, he can feel it all over his skin.

“I like how that sounds, starboy.”

If that’s the label Yeosang wants to put them, then San will be happy to call them starboys until he finds out what does he actually want to call him. For now, he stays the night under the stars, Yeosang falling asleep on top of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sansang as the young cute love pair <3


	2. 4 AM hangouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember: same storyline, different pov (meaning this chapter will follow the same events chapter one had, but from another's person perspective). I hope it's not confusing!  
> <3

_**WOOYOUNG** _

Arriving home late at night is something Wooyoung had accepted as his long term routine even a longer time ago. Always when the house is quiet, people already on their rooms, sleeping, studying or whatever. But not receiving him. Obviously, it doesn't happen everyday, yet the days he slides into the apartment at four in the morning just because he couldn't go home without that specific movement flowing perfectly in front of the mirror, he feels lonely. Sticky feeling taking over his chest and making his heart cry. 

His bed looking cold and empty, not welcoming him but making him feel a little more lonely than he already is. Resting all the weight of his body over the doorframe, he wonders about if that's the reason he barely sleeps there anymore. Wooyoung considers himself an easygoing person, making friends fast, getting comfortable around people faster, for that it wasn't a burden for him to share the apartment with other four dudes. He knew he would love it there.

That's the same reason he also left his shame forgotten long ago and, after dropping his things into his bedroom floor — not giving that topic the important it needs — he goes straight to San's room. Sleeping with San is easy, because San doesn't move and he is kind of warm. Also, he has the best mattress and his room is always tidy — not like Mingi's, that's always a fucking mess. 

Yet, when he opens the door, getting close to the mattress, he sees a person already curled there. Wooyoung frowns almost immediately, stomach sinking a little on his abdomen. Going back to the corridor, trying not to wake them up, he finds himself staring at Yeosang's closed door for a while. _Why would be Yeosang sleeping with San?_

He wonders, feet finding a way to Yunho's room. Opening it, he catches a light on, boy still in front of his desk, glasses slightly falling over his nose as he quickly types. Wooyoung lets his body rest over the door, observing him until he gets noticed, that image he just saw already rooting deep down his brain.

Yunho's room is nice, Wooyoung's second favorite. It smells like soap and is the biggest one, but there's always clothes on the bed and papers everywhere. It's not decorated and that makes Wooyoung a little uneasy. But he likes it after all. It reminds him to his own room, in some kind of way.

"Hey," Yunho finally speaks, gaze on him. "You scared me, what are you doing there?" 

Wooyoung purses his lips in a pout. 

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" He wants to ask normally, but his voice flows in a beg, making Yunho curve the edges of his mouth a little.

"Only if you shower first," Yunho wrinkles his nose. "You smell."

"This is the smell of victory. I got the movement right after a week," Wooyoung says, but he ends up moving to the bathroom anyway. With San, he never showers — this is friendship — but Yunho's different. He doesn't know exactly why, but Yunho is the only one he is pleading to obey. Maybe because he is the oldest, maybe because he doesn't treat Wooyoung like he is dumb. Maybe because he smells like soap and rubs his back every time he has a bad day. Without asking questions or frowning at him.

Yunho's naturally kind.

Shampooing his hair with what totally looks like Mingi's melon shampoo, he wanders around what he saw again. Yeosang and San. Yeosang hugging San from behind. Strongly smelling like paint, just as if he had been painting until late — he for sure was — just to crash into San's bed then. Why San, though? Why not waiting for him? 

They kissed once, months ago, one weekend they both stayed on the apartment because Yeosang had a big assignment due on Monday and Wooyoung was too tired to take a train home late at night. It was the first time Yeosang opened to Wooyoung, sharing dinner together and almost making out on the couch while Infinity War played on the TV. _Almost,_ because Yeosang kissed him back for a second, just to say they shouldn't break the friendship. 

Wooyoung wouldn't have minded it at all, and it bugs him now that he prefers to crawl into San's bed.

Not Wooyoung's. 

Making his way back to Yunho's room, he finds the boy already on bed, reading a book. Wooyoung closes the door behind his back, softly, jumping into the mattress just a few seconds later. He closes his eyes, letting the soap smell engulf him. 

He is tired.

"You used Mingi's shampoo again," Yunho mumbles, Wooyoung feeling how his fingers thread on his hair, caressing his scalp with delicacy. He sinks deeper on the mattress. "He will get mad."

"Whatever. He abandoned me at eleven, weak bitch," he groans, still mad that Mingi doesn't put a lot of pressure on his body like him. Not caring if he doesn't get a new move at the moment. Arriving home early, spending time together at dinner with the rest, not like Wooyoung. 

"You should not push yourself that hard, Woo. Is four in the morning, think about your body."

Another thing he likes about Yunho, is that even when Wooyoung arrives late, he is still awake.

"You're awake too. Think about your brain."

"I needed to finish this assignment. I'm kinda stuck, words won't flow."

Yunho's a creative writing major, and for Wooyoung, he is the best writer that had ever lay a foot in this world. Okay, maybe Wooyoung is not into reading a lot, more less into creative writing. But Yunho's the best, he knows that as he was the only person being able to make him cry just with the right set of words.

Almost like shaking a forgotten part inside his chest.

"What are you writing about?" Wooyoung is tired, colors already starting drawing on his eyelids, but he is also curious. About Yunho's day, Yunho's life, Yunho's livings. And he doesn't know why, he just feels it deep down his heart.

"This time we need to write about someone."

Wooyoung doesn't need a lot to know _who_ Yunho might be writing about that has him stuck. Is not his mom, because Yunho loves writing about his mom, and it's not about his childhood friend, because that's always easy. The only person Yunho ever got problems writing, is San.

And as Yunho knows about his _tiny_ crush on Yeosang, Wooyoung knows about Yunho's _big_ crush on San.

"Let me guess. Got the cutest dimples but also a big annoying ass?"

"He's not annoying," Yunho confirms, sounding pouty.

"He totally is."

He can't see him from his position — totally hugging him, face engulfed into his chest — but he knows Yunho just rolled his eyes. Ignoring him, he says, "the topic was love at first sight. Not meaning romantic love, but that feeling when you see someone and you know you're gonna get along pretty well," Wooyoung nods, one arm moving alone to twirl around his waist, bringing him closer. "I didn't want to write about Sani again but, I just couldn't help it. I fell for him at first sight, after all."

Wooyoung muffles a laugh against the fabric of his shirt.

"You have a horrible taste in men."

"I know," Yunho sighs. "Do you mind if I read a part to you? I have it on my phone, don't know if I should add it."

Wooyoung nods, but he doesn't even catch the first word as the tiredness is ready yanking of his legs and pulling him into a comfy sleep.

—

Wooyoung wakes up alone and cold, finding the blanket on the floor. He can't know the time of the day it is, because Yunho always wakes up stupidly early, but for the little light making it through the window, he supposes is pass six but not nine yet. Picking up the blanket he wraps himself into a burrito and closes his eyes, listening how San crashes into Mingi at the door.

If San's still here it must be eight in the morning, not more.

He has a lot to sleep yet.

Waking up again at eleven, he finds Yunho already sitting in front of his desk. Typing. Always typing. Wooyoung stretches, making sure the boy hears him, getting his eyes over him just a couple seconds after.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Yunho mocks.

"Morning," he sighs, content. "Slept so well."

"I could tell," Yunho rolls the chair until he is reaching the edge of the bed where Wooyoung is already sitting. He places both hands over his thighs, tapping. "You fell asleep while I was reading for you. That's not nice."

"What can I do, you have a pretty voice," Wooyoung yawns, jumping. Cold floor meeting his feet. "Did you make coffee?"

"On the kitchen."

Walking into the kitchen, he bumps into Yeosang, wearing a long white shirt that's totally not his own. Boy is pouring a big amount of coffee on Yunho's spiderman cup — there's this thing about Yeosang: he never asks for things, he just takes them, almost like he is testing how much his cute face could save him from (with Yunho, always. With Mingi, not as much, and for the way that must be one of his shirts, now covered in paint, even less).

"Fill one for me too, please," Wooyoung sings, dragging his feet to the counter and picking a banana. Yeosang gives him tired eyes. "That's Mingi's shirt."

Yeosang looks down as he fills another cup — this time, San's DNA strands one because his brain is full of biology — in silence. 

"Is that so?"

"It's reaching your knees," Wooyoung points, eyes dangerously meeting the soft skin of his legs.

"It's comfy," Yeosang hands him the cup, gifting him a small smile before he is walking into his room again.

Yeosang is cute.

Coming back to Yunho's room, he places the banana over the desk, already thinking of moving into his own room and maybe tidying it up before going for a run.

"You need energy if you're gonna be writing about dumbass dimples," he says, getting a squint from Yunho. "Also, you're gonna need it because Mingi will be acting dramatic again. Yeosang is painting in one of his shirts."

"Oh, Yeosang," Yunho sighs, back meeting the chair. "He got paint on San's pillowcase too."

"Oh, yeah," Wooyoung sips. "They were sleeping together. Weird."

"Yeosang didn't even remember about it," Yunho soft replies back. "I talked with him while you went into metamorphosis in my bed. Asked if he slept great and he told me he had a weird dream about San. Our typical Yeosang."

Wooyoung ignores everything but one thing.

"You saw me sleeping?"

"I even took a pic," Yunho smiles brightly, pulling his phone out to show him a perfect picture of his own being engulfed in the blanket, just his face to see, mouth opened. "You're a cute caterpillar."

"Delete that!" Wooyoung places the cup on the desk before throwing his body into the chair, trying to reach the phone. "I look so ugly!" 

"Nah, you look cute."

They fight for a while, until Wooyoung is surrendering because Yunho got hella long arms, and also a lot of strength to keep him down. Yunho smiles at him, saying that he will put that pic as his lock screen.

"If someone sees that pic, you're dead to me, Jeong Yunho." 

"Don't worry," Yunho smiles to himself, already positioning himself back in front of his laptop. "I'll save it just for me."

—

Getting home after his morning run, he finds a war starting on his phone, and after losing dramatically — he will kill Choi San —, he faceplants in his bed in agony. He hates doing chores. He hates sorting the most.

**tree house leader 🐶**

**yunho:** you really told me to suck your dick ???

 **yunho:** after I let you sleep in my bed???

 **wooyoung:** it was general 

**wooyoung:** im mad

 **wooyoung:** why are you SCOLDING ME when it was yeosang the one who started all this MESSSS

 **yunho:** because you put mingis shirt inside yeosangs basket

 **yunho** : so it is your fault

 **wooyoung:** you don't love me <\3

 **yunho:** you didn't have mingi dramatically screaming how he wants to sue yeosang at you for ten minutes

 **yunho:** sorting on you, or I'll show that pic everyone 

**wooyoung:** now yeah suck my fucking dick dude

 **wooyoung:** and if u say sumn

 **wooyoung:** i will not only kill your future husband, ill kill you too

 **yunho:** rude :(

Wooyoung does, actually, have to listen how Mingi scolds at him as they walk class together. 

—

On Fridays, Wooyoung gives his body a little rest and doesn't stay to practice after class. Coming home to eat, the four of them sitting together to share lunch — San texts the groupchat saying he has some practice he forgot he had ( _dumbass_ ) —, he holds Yeosang's hand under the table as Yunho scolds him for walking around without noticing things, like the shirt incident that still has Mingi vibrating in front of him, or San's pillowcase that makes Yeosang open his eyes wide as, like Yunho said, he thought it was nothing but a dream.

Thing that doesn't make Wooyoung's heart relax, because if he didn't walk into San's bed consciously, then is worse. It is much more worse. 

After that, the doesn't go into his room as always, splattering on the couch next to Yunho as Wooyoung practices some dance moves with Mingi. Wooyoung keeps an eye on him, but Yeosang remains quiet, playing with his fingers and biting his lower lip from time to time.

Worried.

Later, when San finally arrives home, Wooyoung is waiting for him. Catching him off guard and pulling him down easily, almost as if San is not trying enough. He is kinda mad, no one disrespect his dick that way, more less San. They've been sleeping together for enough time for Wooyoung to wake up with his morning erection poking his leg, and he is sure San is just the same size as him. So take that, _fucker._

"I dare you to say my dick is small again," he says, already winning the match and keeping him pressed to the floor with one hand. San rolls his eyes at him, not even trying. "C'mon!"

"That sounds weird," Yunho laughs a little, catching Wooyoung's attention. Boy is still on the couch, laptop already dead on the table, head resting on his hand as he watches a cooking show next to sleeping Mingi. "Get a room."

Wooyoung's body relaxes automatically, allowing San to flip him over and run away to his room. He swears he's gonna kill him, but for now he presses his lips and walks towards the couch, where Yunho gives him a questionable look.

"What?" He says, softly, fingers of his free hand rushing Mingi's hairs. "It was a joke. It's not like I'm gonna get jealous over you two wrestling."

"You don't have, though," Wooyoung shrugs, sitting by the edge of the table, hands on his lap. He examines Mingi, getting sure he is sound asleep before keep on talking. "I don't like San that way, he is annoying. I think you're the only one that could be catching feelings for him."

Yunho smiles, a door opening behind their backs. As Wooyoung follows Yunho's gaze, he finds Yeosang exiting his room — where he walked around six, saying he had to keep on painting. Wearing his own clothes this time, finger pointing at San's room. "San's home?" He whispers. 

Yunho is the one nodding before Yeosang is entering the room and closing the door behind his back. That gesture makes Wooyoung's stomach sink again.

_Worse._

"Do you think he could be…" Wooyoung can't finish the sentence.

"I don't know," Yunho's voice dies in the air, San screaming ( _"Wooyoung's nasty_ ") from his room interrupting them. He smiles a little, resting the back of his head on the couch. "Go," he says, so soft for a moment Wooyoung just wants to stay there. 

Yet, he doesn't. Going inside the room and finding both boys with equal worried looks on their faces, pulling San down so easily it's not funny at all. When he goes back into the living room, he kisses Yeosang on the cheek as he always do. Tasting paint because it's funny, because Yeosang is always too tired to even deny the kisses, and because Wooyoung likes it.

But this time, Yeosang is looking down. And the only thing he gets is San's half smile.

The door closes again.

"Did you win?" Yunho asks as Wooyoung sits on the floor, head resting over one of his legs, frowning a little. For a reason, he feels defeated. He immediately gets the feelings of fingers caressing him.

Yunho does that a lot. It calms him.

"Of course. I always win," yet, he doesn't feel like he won at all. 

He stays there for a couple minutes, letting Yunho caress his hair as the dude on the TV finish a perfect cake that has his mouth watering. Yeosang doesn't look back at them as he goes out minutes after, directly heading to his room.

Jumping on his heels and bursting into San's room like a twist, he finds the boy sitting on the bed with a sad expression. He doesn't think before getting all over his body.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" San cries out loud when he holds both his arms behind his back. "Yunho!"

Maybe, just maybe, Wooyoung is a little jealous of annoying San.

—

Yunho was the first one Wooyoung met. He was in search of a nice flat near uni, and Yunho was desperate to find four more persons before the landlord decided to give it to another group of friends. Yunho was nice, had light blonde hair by then, and he was so tall it made Wooyoung a little intimidated. Yet, the first thing Wooyoung noticed about him, was the way his eyes smiled.

Yunho is always writing. And when he writes, he doesn't smile, but his eyes do it a lot.

That's what Wooyoung gets after the year living together. On his laptop, his phone, any piece of paper he finds around, his own skin. The boy claims he wanted to be a writer since he was born, and Wooyoung believes him with his entire soul.

Knocking on his door, he finds him invested in that assignment. That _San assignment._

"Yun," he calls, almost like crying, feet dragging all over the room until he is falling into his arms. "I'm sad."

"Why, why, why?" Yunho rubs his back, giving him a short hug.

Wooyoung sighs. "Mingi manhandled me and forced me to go with him to the mall because he insists it was my fault that he got his shirt stained. And like, he was crushing my ribs but it _wasn_ 't my fault so I decided death will be better. Then Sangie came out of his room and said that he would go buy the shirt with him. I thought _'Wow, Yeosang loves me'_ but this bitch asked me for money, extra money, because he wants to buy some brushes for his assignment."

Yunho laughs, softly.

"And you gave it to him?"

"Of course! I didn't want to go, and do you think I can even say no to Sang? I'd go on my knees if he asked."

"I know. So, what do you want?"

Wooyoung rubs his forehead against his shoulder, finally pressing a cheek against his skin and looking at him from behind. It's amazing how Yunho never asks him why he is sad, or tells him to deal it alone. His eyes smile at him as he offers his time to make him feel better. 

"Anime night?" He whispers. 

"It's three in the afternoon."

"Time's not real," Wooyoung waits, hoping he just says yes, even when maybe he is being a little bit selfish because Yunho is way too nice, Yunho never says no to him and, also, Yunho needs to finish his assignment.

"Okay, but just a couple hours. Then I'll finish this."

Wooyoung kisses his cheek, loudly.

—

They put on Naruto and Yunho makes popcorn. Resting his head on Yunho's lap, being feed popcorn and watching how Pain and Naruto fight — one of the best fights in anime —, Wooyoung feels better.

It's not like he is in love with Yeosang, but they kind of knew each other before even starting living together. Yeosang is a good friend of Hongjoong, who happens to be his senior. Hongjoong told him about a friend searching for a flat and Wooyoung met Yeosang in a cozy cafeteria, drinking mocha and wearing a big oversized sweater. 

Yeosang was beautiful. The kind of beautiful you don't see everyday. Almost magical. Yeosang smiled at him and Wooyoung believed they would be inseparable. But it seems like Yeosang is liking San's company a lot, and that makes him mop around. Because he loves sleeping with someone, and Yeosang never asked him.

Yunho's presence is like strawberry flavoured medicine.

"Don't look at me," Yunho says, looking down, when he catches Wooyoung staring. "You're gonna miss the whole thing."

"I've seen it a million times."

"Why are we here, then?"

Wooyoung shrugs. "I wanted to spend time with you. Alone."

Yunho presses his lips, trying to hide an smile, throwing a lot of popcorn into his mouth then. Wooyoung can't help but think Yunho deserves everything good in this world. 

Hours later, San is arriving home, awkwardly standing in front of Yeosang's room before turning to Yunho. "He's out with Mingi. To buy another shirt," he explains and soon, San is pouting and asking Wooyoung to make him some room in the couch. When he throws the words at him ( _"Weren't you in charge of that?"_ ) Wooyoung just sends him a kiss and pats Yunho's legs, asking for more popcorn. As he explains it slowly, his mind drifts again to that thought. 

San looks a little confused, almost like a tiny bee in search of a beautiful flower. It hurts his chest to think it might be Yeosang. That they might've started something behind their backs.

And it also hurts him _for Yunho_. Yunho, who has the biggest crush on him, and is seeing the same things Wooyoung is. Again, Yunho deserves everything good this world has to offer, even if it's not much.

"I'm going to pee," he says, thinking that maybe Yunho will thank him for that small moment alone, not looking back as he gets inside the bathroom. He hears San mumbling, but not gets a thing of what he is saying.

Totally waiting for Wooyoung to be out. _Great._

He looks at himself in the mirror and, with a frown, he promises to stop acting like a kid. He is twenty one, and love is complicated. If San ends up falling for Yeosang, he should be happy. Getting jealous would only break what he cherishes the most of all five of them living together: friendship.

Going out without actually peeing — because it was just an excuse — he finds Yunho half hugging San, fingers on his hair, eyes not smiling anymore. And for a reason, that makes him hurt too.

Yunho's too nice.

He shouldn't be suffering. 

—

Sunday vanishes like his very first sandcastle that he made too close to the shore, Wednesday coming hard at him with another late practice. In front of the mirror, his movements are ugly. They lack everything: energy, delicacy, elegance. They're poor and mechanical, with no color. No soul. And he hates the fact he can't move like he wants.

Mind numb. Thinking about how he crashed into Yeosang late at night on Monday when he arrived home and the boy was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, eating chips with paint on his legs. Or how San has been moving around, anxious, acting strange, eyes always moving to Yeosang's room door but never actually knocking.

Or how Yunho has been spacing out, fingers moving slowly, staying on the living room for more minutes that he should. 

Wooyoung notices everything, but when he goes to Yunho's bed to get his hair caressed, he decides to avoid the topic. 

Arriving late on Wednesday, he decides to go straight to San's room, finding him alone this time. He doesn't want to bother Yunho, knowing he really needs to finish his San assignment before Friday. And maybe, even when he is acting cranky and jealous, he does miss sleeping with San too. For a reason he doesn't actually get. 

He kicks off his shoes and shirt, sliding under the blankets easily, San's arms finding him real fast. He wants to think he also missed him. The boy doesn't say a thing, dead asleep, and Wooyoung decides to take it as a good thing, putting his brain for a rest and wrapping an arm around his waist. He is warm.

He wakes up twice. 

First time, San is hugging him tightly, chest pressed to his back where he can feel his heartbeats, going fast. Mouth on his neck, saliva starting dripping. 

Groaning, he kicks him and the air, mumbling something he hopes sounds coherent before covering himself with the blankets again.

Second time, already late in the morning, with a hand on his cheek. Opening his eyes, startled, he finds Yunho instead of San.

"What?"

"San told me to kick you off his bed," Yunho says with a smile, thumb moving along his skin. "You need to start sleeping in your own bed, Woo. You're not a kid anymore."

"I totally am," he grunts, still standing up and stretching his arms in the air. "I should wash his sheets, though."

"I'll do it. Go shower," Yunho orders. 

It feels oddly weird on his chest. Everything around him, almost as if things are moving fast lately, but he is still stuck in his normal, plain speed life. Getting far from everyone. 

Getting lonely. 

Showering, he doesn't use Mingi's melon shampoo. He goes for Yunho's vanilla one.

—

**tree house leader 🐶**

**wooyoung:** you really only love me bc I pay rent? :(

 **yunho:** no >:{ 

**yunho:** but I didn't want san murdering u

 **wooyoung:** a simple 'san dont kill woo he is lovely and my life would be so sad without him' would have been enough 

**yunho:** too complicated for san to understand

 **wooyoung:** fake love.mp3

 **yunho** : woo

 **yunho:** you're so cute

 **yunho** : still on the supermarket, do u want something?

 **wooyoung:** loyalty 

**yunho:** choco cookies? okay!

 **wooyoung:** ...

 **wooyoung:** and water too pls ive been stealing from mingis 

**yunho** : why do you all steal from him? 

**wooyoung:** mad mingi is funny 

**yunho:** you'll kill him one day 

**wooyoung:** he will be okay if he has u

 **wooyoung:** or not

 **wooyoung:** because you are san biased

 **wooyoung:** he made me pee in a cup and u are acting like nothing 

**yunho:** I know you didn't pee in a cup

 **yunho:** mingi told me he held san for u

 **wooyoung:** then he wonders why we always steal him 

**wooyoung:** rat

 **wooyoung:** mingi, not you 

**wooyoung:** wait were you worried about me????

 **wooyoung:** yun

 **wooyoung:** yuuuuuuuuun

 **wooyoung:** aw, cute <3 

—

  
  


Still, San catches him when he exits the room to steal some cookies from Mingi — because Yunho made him crave it.

“Mingi won’t save you now!” San says, pushing him down with one hand. "I made a pact with him."

Wooyoung squints, feeling how his bones scream and his muscles tense. He was wrong, he doesn't miss San not even a little. Boy's so annoying he only wants to kick his ass. 

"What pact? That's forbidden!" 

"It's a secret," San tightens his grip, making Wooyoung whine under his weight.

He searches for Mingi, sitting on the couch, mixed expression dancing on his face. Like he is enjoying this, and at the same time, he is drifting away like the rest.

Leaving Wooyoung alone.

"You're awful!" He hisses.

Mingi rolls his eyes before sinking on the couch. When Yunho arrives from class, San is the one asking for help. The boy places the cookies on the table and, next to it, ten bottles of melon shampoo.

No one says a thing. 

—

After that, he loses Mingi too.

The boy spends some time walking around him during practice, almost like something's bugging him but he won't act nice and tell Wooyoung. And this time, it makes him curious, because Mingi never shares his thoughts, but he is totally sure it has to do something with him and the shirt incident. Yet, it's useless, getting the door closed on his face as he tries to get what's making him trip more than ten times during practice.

Wooyoung is done. 

"Mingi's an asshole," he breaks into Yunho's room after showering, hair dripping wet over his naked shoulder. 

Yunho looks up from his screen, glasses sliding through the bridge of his nose again, hair a mess and wearing the same hoodie he saw him wearing yesterday. 

"What happened now?" 

"He's been acting weird all day," the boy moves slowly, feet reaching the edge of the bed, drying his hair there as Yunho goes back into his work. He observes how his shoulders move, softly. Everything in Yunho is soft, actually, since his messy hair to the pale skin of his nape. Wooyoung loses himself for a second there.

"Don't mind him. We all have bad days."

"It's not like he had a bad day, it's more like he is pissed," Wooyoung mumbles, eyes falling down Yunho's back. Wide. "I didn't do anything to him."

Yunho moves then, cocking his head to one side, already showing that smile at him. Wooyoung sinks a little, hands brushing the naked skin of his chest, suddenly getting embarrassed — even when it’s not the first time he walks around without a shirt, actually, Yunho has seen him with less clothing. Either way, it makes him a little shy.

“Sometimes it’s not what we do to others, but what we do to ourselves,” Yunho mumbles, chair rolling his way to him again. Wooyoung gulps, staring at him.

“Don’t come at me with your writer’s shit,” he says, making Yunho giggle. “I don’t understand you.”

“Do you want to watch some anime? I’m so tired, and this new assignment is even worse than the other.”

“How did San assignment end?”

Yunho shrugs.

“My teacher said it was beautiful.”

 _Of course_ , Wooyoung thinks, lowering his gaze to stare at Yunho’s fingers. Long, slim, delicate. Mingi told him once he had pianist fingers, but Wooyoung doesn’t think that way. Yunho has writer fingers. Fingers that move delicacy over the keyboard and create beautiful worlds with just the right set of worlds. Fingers whose movement is enough to make people cry, laugh, feel. 

Wooyoung knows it because Yunho’s fingers caressing his hair is the only thing that can make him forget about reality and wake up in a world where everything is easier. Living, breathing, loving.

“Do you?” Yunho asks again, bringing him into the real world with the same facility he sent him to wonderland. 

“Hmm, yeah,” Wooyoung shakes his head, water droplets falling everywhere, even all over Yunho’s face. “ _Sowwy_ ,” he speaks cutely. “I’m gonna put on a shirt. Pick whatever you want.”

Going back to his room and pulling down a hoodie, he finds his heart racing.

—

Yunho picks Bleach and Wooyoung sits next to him, arms around his waist and head on his shoulder, for the first three episodes until San is coming from class and joining them. Even when he barely likes anime. Wooyoung doesn’t question him, moving to the floor to let him the spot next to Yunho — how nice he is —, head still pressed to one of his knees.

Mingi’s coming out as well after another two episodes, hiding behind the blanket San is wrapping around.

At some point, Wooyoung’s gaze moves to Yeosang’s door. Is closed, but he can hear him at the other side. He hopes he comes outside and, finally, they all share some time together.

Walking at the same pace again. 

But he doesn’t.

—

**99z GANG LETS GETTTTTTIT**

**san:** i bought myself some strawberry shampoo

 **san** : don’t use it

 **wooyoung:** feeling like shampooing my hair

 **san:** dont u dare

 **san:** and if u dare, i’ll chop your dick

 **yunho:** can we have a nice conversation without getting dicks envolved?

 **wooyoung:** dick

 **san:** dick

 **mingi:** dick

 **yunho:** yeosang stop typing!

 **wooyoung:** lmao

 **yeosang:** i was gonna say you are gay

 **wooyoung:** thought we talked about that already

 **wooyoung:** yunho, hot

 **wooyoung:** san, meh

 **san:** WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU

 **san:** I JUST WANTED TO MAKE IT CRYSTAL CLEAR

 **san:** IF YOU USE MY SHAMPOO ILL BE KICKING YOUR BALLS

 **mingi:** actually, thanks to you all im hating melon smell

 **mingi:** fuckers

 **yeosang:** same

 **wooyoung:** yunho bought ten bottles T_T

 **yunho:** only if you didn’t steal!

 **mingi:** that!!!!!!!

—

It's late at night again when Wooyoung arrives, feeling so tired he just doesn't think. Eyes closed, he goes straight to the shower. Shampooing his hair with San's strawberry shampoo, he gets to listen how the door of his room opens, softly knocking on Yeosang's door.

Wooyoung waits, eyes opening, not catching much of what Yeosang says after he opens the door, closing it real quick. He doesn't listen San move back into his room again.

He lets the water fall over his back, not thinking. 

San's door is open when he gets out in silence. Room dark, empty.

When he makes it into Yunho's room after putting into more comfortable clothes, it's already close to 4 AM again.

"You smell like strawberries," Yunho points as Wooyoung falls dead into the mattress, fingers quickly finding his waist, forehead pressed to his chest. When the older boy talks again, Wooyoung feels how his lips brush the top of his hair, one hand moving to the back of his head and staying there. “San is gonna kill you.”

 _San’s too busy with Yeosang,_ he thinks, slightly feeling how his chest sinks in cold water and it starts piercing the skin surrounding his heart. _He’s so busy falling in love to even care._

And Yeosang — he sighs — Yeosang might be falling too. 

But Wooyoung knows about Yunho’s feelings, they talked about it one night, one of the million nights they’ve spent together. Yunho has written a thousand poems for San, each one of them portraying a type of love Wooyoung has never felt before. It’s ardent, fast, exciting. Fleeting. Almost like seeing a shooting star on a summer night. Brief, but shocking. Rooting within seconds. And maybe that’s the reason Yunho lost his head for the dimples of their roommate.

Even if he can smell it, Wooyoung won’t say it out loud. Because he doesn’t want to break Yunho’s heart.

“I got tired of melon,” is his only reply, opening his eyes to find the fabric of Yunho’s hoodie, smelling like lavender soap. Wooyoung inhales deeply, taking that smell with him meanwhile Yunho moves his hand to rub his back. “Why aren’t you writing?”

Yunho shrugs.

“My life isn’t based on writing.”

“Please, Yunho.”

“Okay,” the boy laughs, chest shaking, Wooyoung liking the way his skin sparks with the arriving of that 4 AM happiness. “I’m a little blocked. Needed to rest because all I wrote ended up sounding horrible. I even tried to write another thing aside from my assignment and it made me cry, in the bad way.”

“I bet is beautiful, like everything you do,” Wooyoung mumbles, getting closer, more comfortable between his arms. Yunho opens up like a home for him to crash and sleep after a long tiring day. Pressing his cheek into one of his arms, legs tangled and arms around Yunho’s neck, he looks up. Finding the boy’s gaze through his bangs. “I’ve always wanted to be like San,” he says, in a whisper, making Yunho frown for a fraction of second, confused. Wooyoung looks back, pressing his forehead into his collarbones. “Beautiful.”

“What do you mean, Woo?” Yunho doesn’t move, but he does move one hand to place it on Wooyoung’s cheeks, squishing them until he is looking back at him, other hand still pressed into his back. “You _are_ beautiful.”

“No,” he shakes his head, filling his cheeks with air. “I mean, poetically beautiful.”

Yunho raises a brow, letting go of him and finally moving their bodies. Wooyoung’s back meets the mattress, Yunho digging his chin — carefully — on his stomach as he lays half his body over his legs. Both hands patting his tummy, giving him puppy eyes.

“I don’t understand you.”

Wooyoung sighs, looking up. Yunho’s ceiling is white, plain, _clear._ It’s not like San’s filled with glowy star stickers neither like Mingi’s filled with band posters. He knows Yeosang must have painted something on his and for that he doesn’t allow them to enter. But Yunho, is clear like a sky after a storm, just like Wooyoung’s. Maybe that’s the reason he feels calm sleeping there. Like he is still home.

When he speaks, his throat feels a little dry. “That type of person that appear on books, or poems. You don’t see that type of person in real life, because writers always look at things and persons from a different point of view. They’re able to add beauty on something that others wouldn’t even notice. I want to be that beautiful. I want the sun to dance on my skin, I want to be like that sun. I want to be so beautiful for a person that it hurts,” he looks down, tears blurring the image of Yunho in front of him. He doesn’t know why he is crying. Or maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge that the person he likes, doesn’t like him back. “Like San is for you.”

Yunho stares at him for a while, looking down before standing and walking to his desk. Wooyoung takes the chance to move and curl his body into a ball, facing the wall, screaming internally because it’s late and he is sleepy and he is acting like an idiot. When Yunho gets into the bed again, Wooyoung also listens the pages of a book moving. Peeking above his shoulder, he gets the perfect vision of Yunho’s yellow notebook. The only poem he ever read him from that notebook was the one he wrote for his grandfather.

“Can I read you something I wrote earlier?” Yunho whispers. “To get away from block.”

Wooyoung gulps, rolling slowly. “The one that made you cry in a bad way?”

“Yeah.”

He ends up nodding, eyes fixed on the messy calligraphy filling the pages. Yunho told him once, the yellow notebook was for his heart to speak only. Not thinking, just pouring.

“I’ve seen you break in front of me,” Yunho starts reading, softly, lips trembling a little and eyes fixed on the pages. So Wooyoung decides to close his eyes and just listen to him, “perhaps that’s the reason I open my arms for you every night. Because you have so little, yet you bring it for me to see. You break, but you don’t vanish. You open for me, beg me to touch you, to put all your pieces together again. In silence. My hands shake so much I’m scared I end up turning you into dust, but my lips know how to kiss you to sleep. I’ve seen you break in front of me, so many times, that my body already feels when you’re closer. I’ve seen your pieces fall into the ground, so many times, that I wish nothing but flowers to grow out of your pain. I’ve seen you, so many times, that I’m starting to break as well. Because the world you’re showing me, is not just beautiful. Is breathtaking.”

Yunho’s voice dies, but it keeps floating around for another two minutes, caressing Wooyoung’s eyelids until he is opening his eyes again and searching for him. Yunho’s serious, biting his lower lip.

“Is so bad,” he mumbles, apologetic smile already blooming on his lips.

“No,” Wooyoung takes both hands to his face, sitting down on the mattress. He rubs his eyes first, fingers threading on his own hair then. Chest taking air, heart going fast, but brain moving slowly and sticky. Words getting stuck on certain parts, repeating, one of thems loud, so loud it's numbing him. When he looks back at Yunho, the air flows through his nose hot and gushing out. “You wrote that…,” he stops, thinking, or maybe not finding the right words. “Did you write that thinking of me?”

It's not fleeting like a shooting star. No. This time, it feel like a sunset. Disappearing slowly, exploding in color, mixing sadness and love so perfectly it makes his heart shake. 

Yunho doesn’t answer immediately, eyes going down to the now closed notebook where his fingers are firmly wrapped. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “I wasn’t actually thinking. You always come at 4 AM.”

Wooyoung gulps, eyes meeting yellow. _Feelings._

“Yun, do you think I’m able to take someone’s breath away?” He mumbles, almost inaudible.

But Yunho gets it, of course he does.

Looking away, he takes a hand to his chest. “I know you can take _mine._ ”

Neither of them realize how their hearts decide to start moving at the same pace, nor the way Yunho’s cheeks get covered in a soft layer of pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yunwoo as the pair that doesn't even realize they're married by now


End file.
